The snake sheds it’s skin,
starting fresh yet older, the same yet different.
So too can we throw off the cloak
we have woven,
so tight against our skin it becomes us.
The threads that hold it together,
threads of doubt, of hatred,
of greed and aberrance.
Petty thoughts that grow stronger with age.
Yet we can cast it off.
We can start the day new,
we can outgrow that cloak, that skin.
Fresh yet older, wiser.
Cast aside that cloak.
It doesn’t fit.
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About the Creator
Katie
Really just an amateur trying my hand at this.
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